The country-city thing.

Lake, I miss you.
I always feel like a country hick when we leave the lake for a couple of days in town. I feel conspicuously sunburned and covered in insect bites. It's always a strange transition to arrive from the cottage to see city-dwellers sipping lattes in pavement cafés. Suddenly I have to think about
what I'm going to wear and jumping in the lake is no longer an alternative to showering. But Montreal in the summer is a must and the city of festivals cannot be ignored. At the moment the Fringe festival is on. It's 31C and some shows have no air conditioning. Punters are warned to bring water and a fan.

Raccoons on our garden furniture. Are they having a laugh?
Meanwhile more evidence that the animals are laughing at us. Above is proof that raccoons are hanging out on our Adirondack chairs to relax. They left their little paw marks all over one the other morning. So long as they mow the lawn we don't mind.

Our allotment.

There is something about being British and growing vegetables that meant our allotment, as I call it, has been dubbed the Victory Garden by some. They are called community gardens here which just sounds wrong to me. So now we have an old bed head and a sign to bring the feeling of the English allotment to a little part of Quebec. Next we'll be getting a whippet and flat caps. But this garden has biting things, not found in Old Blighty.

This is the before-photo, obviously.
Me going on about Canadian pronunciation.

Look out for some posts from the Canadian Badlands soon.


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